


Ten things I hate about you, Leonardo Da Vinci

by meridian_rose (meridianrose)



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: 10 Things, Anachronistic, Angst, Crack and Angst, Denial of Feelings, Gen, Humour, In Vino Veritas, Love/Hate, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Unrequited Love, Wine, Writing, implied Leario
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-11 21:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3333986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meridianrose/pseuds/meridian_rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Riario tries to write a list of reasons he hates Leonardo but the more he tries, and the more wine he drinks, the more he has to face his true feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten things I hate about you, Leonardo Da Vinci

**Author's Note:**

> For the [valentine/anti-valentine bingo](http://allbingo.dreamwidth.org/39354.html) prompt "ten things I hate about you"
> 
> A translation of this story is available [here](http://www.movietvslash.com/thread-196824-1-1.html) courtesy of [DuttiAngelo](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DuttiAngelo); registration/log in may be required.

Riario sat alone in his quarters, poised at his desk, quill pen held between his finger and thumb. By the dim candle light he perused the document he'd begun, entitled: 

  
****  
Ten things I hate about you, Leonardo Da Vinci  
  


One: Your arrogance. You say it isn't arrogance when it's true but sometimes you plainly _are_ arrogant, your ideas unproven, your first attempts wrong.  
Two: Your recklessness. I'm certain it has got people killed before and one day it might be you who is killed by your hubris, and that, artista, is unthinkable. 

That seemed like a reasonable start. He paused to consider item three, stifling a yawn. Riario hadn't slept well in over a week, unable to stop thinking about Leonardo. Then he'd overheard one of the servants – and look how far he'd already fallen, to be listening to peasant gossip – telling the cook how she had recovered from her ill-fated love affair with one of the stable grooms.

"He broke my heart, he did," the servant had said. "And then I started thinking about his crooked nose. And much he snored, like a herd of bulls. Soon I had counted up ten things that I hated about him, and by the finish I couldn't remember why I'd ever loved him at all!"

So it was, that, in desperation, he was attempting to write this list.

With sudden inspiration, Riario wrote:

Three: Your choice of friends. All right, not Nico. Zoroaster though, I wonder why you let that mongrel stay at your side. ~~I am not jealous, do not be ridiculous~~.

Which would have been fine if he hadn't followed it up with:

Four: And you slept with my duplicitous cousin. That just makes things _awkward_.

He sighed. He would need wine before he could continue. 

*

After enough wine to drown out the thought of Leonardo in bed with Lucrezia, Riario sat back down with fresh determination. There were plenty of things he hated about Leonardo, after all. Yet the next item that came to mind surprised even him with its awful truthfulness and melancholy.

Five: I hate that your obsessions have become my own, that you are now a mirror of my own vanities and frailties. 

Six: That despite our similarities you do not have the decency to ever feel ashamed or guilty the way I do. Is that arrogance again? I don’t know anymore. 

A prayer and rather more wine punctuated his endeavour. Riario was, if anything, more off balance when he returned to his desk, goblet in hand.

Seven: You have no fashion sense. ~~That's totally a legitimate reason.~~ Those tight trousers and shirts that lack any fastenings? You might as well go naked. ~~Not something I would care to see, of course.~~  


It was a few minutes before Riario could focus on anything other than the thought of a naked Leonardo. Where had he got to? Oh, yes. Pressing the quill down with unnecessary force, he wrote:

Eight: Your stupid face.  


Riario gave an unseemly giggle. He took a swig of wine, a few drops spilling onto the parchment like blood. That morbid thought pulled him up short, because plenty of people wanted Leonardo dead, especially if he could not be contained. Riario wanted, needed, Leonardo to side with Rome. It was the only way to keep him safe. To keep him close.

His penmanship was suffering the effects of the wine, his exhaustion, his emotions, and the words were barely legible as he scrawled:

Nine: That I should be able to think of a thousand things I hate and yet I cannot. 

He closed his eyes, zeroing in on the final reason he could, or should, hate Leonardo.

Ten: I hate that because of you, instead of sleeping, I'm making this list. I'm trying and failing to think of ways to hate you. And I'm doing it because the alternative, to accept why it is that you haunt my waking life and my dreams alike, is unthinkable. 

It would never do for a godly man, the Pope's feared enforcer, to let himself fall in love with another man, especially a godless artist who was Rome's enemy. That in itself ought to be reason enough to hate Leonardo, and yet he did not, could not.

Riario screwed up the parchment and tossed it into the fire, watching it burn, praying that his desires would burn with it – and was secretly relived when they did not.


End file.
